Like Leather on Skin
by InTheVast
Summary: Logan wants to do bad things.


-1**Title: **Like Leather on Skin  
**Author:** InTheVast  
**Pairing/Character: **Logan/Veronica, Logan/Lilly, Lilly/?/Logan  
**Word Count: **3000  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Summary:** Logan wants to do bad things.  
**Spoilers: **Season one, just to be safe. This goes AU sophomore year, so it's pre-series.  
**Warnings: **Bad fanfic, bad words and depressing sexual situations. Don't read this if you can't handle the thought of VM characters in threesomes. I also draw some semi-parallels between Logan and Aaron in this fic.   
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. :(  
**Author's Notes: **1. Written for the "Anchor's Away" challenge at **vmlibrary**. It must be known that my fanfic got lucky with **takenwithyou**, **rejeneration**, **rindee**, all as amazing, super fine betas. They made a man out of it.  
FYI- I also have a sorta sequel idea which I might write with enough interest.

Logan got the text message during Ms. Mills' class. Throughout her embarassingly, eager lecture about the loss of love in dystopian societies, he'd been fighting the urge to fall asleep right on his desk. He contemplated ignoring the buzzing in his pocket, but his traitorous hands reached for it anyway, flipping the plastic square open to read the text:

I'm on your dad's yacht with a special surprise. Don't keep me waiting.

His stomach twisted at the words, obviously from Lilly. It had been a few months since he'd left the note in her car, along with the shot glass from Ensenada. Predictably enough, Lilly'd had as little as possible to do with him after that. But lately, it was like she was everywhere he was, her sly little smile gracing the curves of her lips as they passed in the hallway. It was as if she did it that way on purpose, just so he couldn't help but think about that same pink mouth wrapping tight around his dick. All of her teasing left Logan wondering what Lilly wanted from him now? His soul? A pound of his flesh?

Whatever she wanted, he wasn't going to put up with her manipulations. He wasn't a dog she could whistle for when she pleased.

"In this chapter the only thing that Winston did not give up to the party was his love for Julia. He would have said anything under torture, but inside, he remained true to her," Ms. Mills explained.

Logan snickered. Where was Mars anyway? She would be soaking this shit up. Girls like her loved fairytale stuff like this. For the tenth time since class started, he looked over to her empty desk, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his forehead creasing with concern when he saw it was unoccupied.

Things had been hard for Veronica recently. Mrs. Mars had dove head first into a Jack Daniels bottle, and she definitely wasn't interested in coming up for air. Her own mother was only the most recent in a string of bad luck. Duncan had dumped her, and Lilly'd started bailing on her to do God knows what, with God knows who. Logan had tried to be the best friend he possibly could be, even going so far as to shed some masculine pride to attempt replacing the girls' nights Veronica used to enjoy with Lilly. He was definitely good at eating the rocky road ice cream, and just watching her giggle over South Park made him weirdly happy. But being alone with her in a dark room, pressed close to her side on the Mars family sofa, well, it just wasn't healthy for any man with a pulse.

Logan definitely tested his will power last week, when he'd taken Veronica home after Shelley Pomroy's party. She'd been wearing this little white slip of a dress, and was constantly clinging to him, telling him how nice he was, how perfect, how wonderful. It hadn't taken too long to figure out she had been drugged, from the bright red cheeks, the slow drag of her tongue across her parched lips, and her wide blue irises. Just thinking about whoever slipped her the drink made Logan clench his fists in anger, hiding them underneath his desk. But at least he had been there to take care of her.

Sure he'd wanted to hitch up the soft material of her dress and feel the warm silk of her skin against his fingertips like every other guy at the party. But with his desire came the fear that he could be too rough, that he could break her. She wasn't Lilly, who would laugh at the bruises he left on her skin and wantonly ask for more. Veronica was everything Lilly wasn't. She was pure. And, no matter how much she had rubbed herself against him that night, she had been drugged. She had been drugged and just wasn't herself.

Logan looked again at Veronica's empty seat and made up his mind. Ms. Mills was going on about fictional wars or something, so he raised his hand caught her attention.

"Yes Logan?" She glanced over at him hopefully. For some reason, she'd always liked him.

"Um, can I get a bathroom pass?"

"They're on my desk," she told him, smiling brightly.

Logan gingerly raised himself up from his desk, fighting to hide a wince at the feel of his muscles stretching under the remains of last night's father-son festivities. _Ignore it._ But his anger only slipped below the surface, not truly forgotten. He had bigger things to worry about, grabbing the laminated slip. He had a feeling he knew where Veronica was. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Minutes later he was smirking at the out of order sign on the girl's bathroom door. Veronica always was resourceful.

"Veronica?" He peered inside the green tiled bathroom. There was no response, but he didn't wait, inviting himself inside.

"No use hiding Veronica. I'm going to find you," Logan called out mischievously, pondering which closed stall he should infiltrate first.

"Go away," moaned a muffled, very Veronica-like voice, sounding like it had come from the second stall. Logan lightly tapped the closed door but, before he could say anything, it swung open, revealing who was within.

Veronica stood in front of him, arms tightly crossed over her chest. She said nothing as Logan studied her, noting the flushed pink cheeks and the downcast eyes, the slight tremble in her posture.

Abruptly, with a painful jolt, he realized what her appearance meant. Veronica had been crying. She painstakingly avoided his gaze until he reached out and lifted her chin, not allowing her an escape. Her eyes were red-rimmed and tears clung to the black fringe of her lashes. At that moment, Logan was struck hard by with the differences between Veronica and other women. Other women cried runny mascara, crocodile tears, making public spectacles to get what they wanted. Veronica Mars cried transparently, locking herself up in bathrooms so no one would see her. She was like no one else.

"What happened?" Logan prodded as gently as possible. As one of the few friends Veronica had, it was his responsibility to get to the bottom of her problem, to see if anyone needed a good punch in the face. Still, he wasn't prepared for her news, despite his own parents' occasional speculation.

"Mom left last night." Her teeth caught her bottom lip on uttering the pained words.

"Jesus," he breathed out. "C'mere Veronica." Not waiting for her typical stubborn response, Logan wrapped his arms tight around his tiny blonde friend, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

"I know my dad and I are better off. It's just...I kept hoping she would get better," Veronica mumbled against his shoulder.

"It's going to be okay." He stroked the stray tendrils of hair away from her face, his fingers reveling in the softness as he mumbled meaningless words. Her body molded into him, and it wasn't long before he noticed her slight quaking had stopped.

Neither moved an inch, both suddenly aware of the moment, Veronica was looking up at him, eyes wide, swallowing him whole. Logan couldn't help himself. His lips came down hard on hers, tongue curling and teasing the slick insides of her mouth.

She groaned in surprise. Logan pulled away from her ruefully, interpreting her response as a protest.

"I'm so sorry, I-" He licked his lips, looking at her for the right words.

Veronica shook her head, fingers still locked in his hair, a small smile forming as she again brought her lips very close to his.

"I wanted you to," she said simply, her breath caressing his lips.

Their lips brushed tentatively this time, and then he was pressing harder as urgency and need seeped into his bloodstream, her touch tainting his good intentions. He had wanted her for so long. The admitted knowledge, unallowed before, was dark and delicious, yet her reaction was devastating. It was the way she responded, the tip of her tongue innocently touching his. She was too good for him. Logan needed more. 

He pressed kiss after kiss against her mouth, trying to communicate his need. Soon, Veronica's arms were encircled around his neck, anchoring him as he lifted her up and carried her out of the confined space of the stall. He set her on the edge of the porcelain sink, hands mapping the curves of her waist, biting her plump lower lip, relishing her small gasps of pleasure. Even though Logan knew he was moving way too fast, beneath him, Veronica was completely pliant and trusting. She pressed against him with her own feverish heat, her kisses lining his throat.

_God, this is wrong. It's so wrong._ Veronica was just looking for comfort, soft pats on the back and sympathetic words. And yet, here he was, showing her how unfair the world really was. Her legs were wrapping tight around his waist and, without actually wanting to, he was letting her know what she was doing to him. Logan was rock hard against her stomach, squeezing her thighs hard enough to bruise, and it still wasn't enough.

He wanted to tell her to stop, he couldn't deal, couldn't handle the sick, heady desire to fuck her, make her black and blue right there in the bathroom. But he couldn't stop. It wasn't what he wanted, wasn't what he had in mind when he went looking for her. In a daze, his hands found the hem of her shirt. She raised her arms, and the tank top was peeled off, falling forgotten to the floor as Logan immersed himself in every inch of her supple, unmarked skin, tasting it, memorizing it.

Slipping the straps of her bra over her shoulders, Logan ran his hands between the fragile curves of her shoulder blades, fingers nimbly undoing hooks, pulling away the filmy material to touch her bare breasts. The delicate skin was plump and silken, hot to the touch. It felt like she was burning from the inside out. 

Logan slid his mouth down the arching slope of her neck, her little whimpers making his dick impossibly hard, uncomfortably so under his jeans. His hands were already covering her breasts, feeling her pink nipples swelling under his fingertips.

"Is this okay?" He growled out, his mouth trailing lower. His voice sounded so rough and unused, as if he hadn't spoken for days.

"Yes," She whispered. Her head was tilted back against the mirror so he couldn't see her eyes.

His mouth enveloped the blushing peak of her left breast, suckling the tip. Veronica's fingers were digging into his scalp, shooting tiny slivers of pain down his bowed spine. His hips were rocking into hers, hard, and savage. Suddenly, things had become rougher, his control slipping, like leather on skin, and she had no idea what she was doing to him.

Needy noises were escaping her lips, fueling him on, scaring him. He pinned Veronica's wrists against the mirror, feeling the small bones grinding under his palms. Logan was kissing her fiercely, all teeth and tongue, all wrong. Her hips were jerking helplessly against his own. He reached between them to undo the top button of his jeans, and then, by blessing or mistake, Logan didn't know which, he looked up at her.

Veronica had lowered her gaze to watch him undo his jeans. Her empty eyes were an unfocused haze of silvery blue, so similar to the night when she was lying on the chaise at Shelly's party, drugged out of her mind when he had found her.

It took everything he had, but he dropped her wrists, taking several deep breaths to calm himself. It wasn't right. He would not hurt her, even if, she was willing, even if wanted it as much as he did.

Confused, Veronica blinked. "Logan, why are you stopping?" The start of a frown creased her mouth, her eyes beginning to clear as the storm had passed.

He shook his head, not daring to speak, pulling away from her, not touching her anymore. She reached out to him, the heel of her hand pressing gently where Aaron's belt had bit into him last night, and he shuddered, imagining what he had wanted to do to _her_ a moment ago.

"No. I can't do this," he finally gritted out.

Her hand dropped and she covered her breasts, the soft girlish features of her face twisting into shock and dismay.

"This is what I want…"

He snorted in disbelief. "You want me to hurt you?"

She said nothing; it was answer enough.

"You're too fine for that, Veronica." He laughed bitterly. "Don't fucking ever let anyone tell you different. Not me, not anyone! Okay?" If Logan had to touch her, even if it was to lay his hands on her soft shoulders to shake her, he was going to lose it.

Veronica nodded, hair falling around her lovely, unreadable face. She looked like she was closing off, and he didn't know what to say, how to make it better. 

He could only watch as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself, and God it hurt so bad. It made it hard to breathe, but Logan knew what he was capable of, and he couldn't stay here, not like this. Not with his heart pounding of his chest at the sight of her.

He didn't wait to see more, and, gathering every last beaten scrap of willpower he had, Logan ran. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Looking in the rear view window as he peeled out of the school parking lot, Logan saw her. She must have absolutely thrown the rest of her clothes on, because, somehow, she'd caught up with him. Standing at the edge of the sidewalk, she did not move as Logan spun the steering wheel and maneuvered out of the parking space. Their eyes met in the reflection of his mirror; she didn't cry as his X-terra pulled away. Instead, she stared at him, her face hard like stone, she stood still, like a statue of a vestal virgin and, nothing like the warm, vulnerable girl who had trusted him. Good. She was better off that way.

For a while, he drove around without a direction. But he knew where he was going to end up. Had there ever been any question? He thought of the text message he received an hour or so ago, and headed towards the marina.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The wind was howling, spewing salt into his eyes; as his father's boat rocked under his unsteady feet. After what he'd been through with Veronica, his whole body felt coiled, wound so tight. Logan gripped the railing down the ladder to the rooms underneath the deck, absently noticing his knuckles, red and white, like candy canes.

It was dark underneath, and it took a while for his eyes to adjust. He could make out the soft glow of the "Captain's" bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear her getting louder and louder as he moved close enough to see inside.

Lilly was twisted up in sheets, her lithe body moving up and down over Weevil; their rhythm was one Logan knew only too well. He wondered if he was supposed to be surprised at Lilly's choice of bedmates. Weevil and he had gotten in a few scrapes in the past. It wasn't his fault the biker couldn't take a Mexican joke. But, now, Lilly fucking some other guy, even Weevil, wasn't even a blip on the radar. He certainly had faith in her, knew her choice could have been a lot of worse.

As it was, the sight was pretty fucking hot. Lil always knew how to put on a show, she made anything she did look good. But Logan was no voyeur, and he wasn't content to just sit back and watch, not tonight.

He stepped inside, making his appearance known. Lilly turned to look at him. Weevil, also aware, gripped her hip bones, starring hatefully over her smooth, white shoulder at Logan.

"This was your surprise?" Logan raised his eyebrows.

"What? Were you expecting Veronica or something?" Lilly giggled, rocking from her perched position on top of Weevil. "Took you long enough, lover boy."

"Shut up." He said to Lilly, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

"Awww," Lilly pursued her lips playfully, looking like the cat who got the cream.

He looked over at Weevil, and if looks could shank… He blew a kiss in the brown- skinned biker's direction, undoing another button.

"Did she promise to let you fuck her in the ass for this?" He smirked at the fucking couple. "Because let me tell you, it's not worth it."

Lilly silenced the start of Weevil's angry response with the fluid movements of her body, rolling her eyes at Logan.

He turned his back on them to remove his shirt. Lilly had already seen the markings, she just didn't care. Weevil probably wished he could have been the one to beat the shit out of him, but Logan didn't dwell on it. He languidly undid his pants, listening to the uninterrupted moans coming from the bed. He thought about what would happen when he joined them.

Logan could already feel Lilly's nails scraping down his back, right over his raw scabs and sores, just the way he liked. He could feel her stretched taut between Weevil and himself, hear her screams as they rode her. Logan could already taste Weevil's coopery sweat, could taste it under his tongue like a drug. But he knew when he closed his eyes, there would only be Veronica.

Logan was not ashamed.


End file.
